She was always
the kind of girl
that sat inside the classroom at breaktime,
as rain dripped down the windows,
watching the other kids
having fun, without her.
The kind of girl
who spent endless nights alone
her only company a well-thumbed book
as everyone else went to parties,
and stayed up all night.
The kind of girl
that walked around school
in a too-big blazer and untucked shirt,
unable to look, to glance anywhere
but the floor.
The kind of girl
who was afraid to speak,
waiting for the next joke,
the next rumour, the next whispers
along the halls.
The kind of girl
that spent so many nights
sobbing, alone
that she eventually ran out
of any tears to cry.
The kind of girl,
who decided one day,
that enough was enough,
and counted out each pill
that would dull her final pain.
The kind of girl
that had her entire world, her universe,
fall apart before her eyes.
YOU ARE READING
still surviving
PoetryA collection of poems and diary entries from the diary of a girl with mental illness. These are the words unspoken, the raw reality of fighting against your own mind in the battle for recovery. Some content may be triggering for some readers, partic...
